The Good-Byes Begin

Fynn, Eloise and Brianna

The good-byes began last night at the beach.  Fynn, Theo and Catherine headed off to Europe today, so we celebrated together one last time...reminiscing about the year's activities and planning ahead for future reunions.  We hope to be back in Vietnam someday, and we hope to see all of these special friends on our side of the world as well.  As the sun set, and the beach became more and more crowded, we had yet another chance to appreciate this little paradise.  The kids splashed and swam, romped on the beach, chased each other around the grass and drank gobs of passion fruit juice.  The adults chatted, relaxed, ate and drank.  Everyone was happy.  We said wistful good-byes to the Trans and deferred all other farewell salutations to a time closer to our departure.  I don't anticipate it will get any easier as the days go by...

Catherine, Sue and Michal

Nolan sucks down a passion fruit juice.

Craig and the peanut/quail egg guy

Teenie-bopper dream...a summer night on the beach
with good friends

Fynn, John and Theo G.

Michele and Carter

Although, in addition to saying good-bye, it is also time to start saying good ridddance.  Today I finished teaching my class of teenagers in Danang.  I said a "mixed" farewell to them - sad to be leaving them but happy to be completely finished working for a few weeks.  As soon as I had ushered them all out the door of the classroom, I did a little happy dance and pitched my "work shoes" in the trash can in the hall.  I came prepared for this moment with my comfy flip-flops ready to go. Next I stripped off my skirt and pulled on my jeans.  As I popped out into the hall to ditch that as well, the "water guy" (the lucky man who gets to haul the ten gallon jugs of water up five flights of stairs arrived on my floor.  He already appeared to be a little puzzled by the rainbow-colored shoes in the waste basket.   I didn't want to make him too crazy by tossing in the hot pink skirt too.  Instead I crumpled it into a ball, donned my back pack, flipped off the lights and A/C and positively bounced down the stairs.  When I arrived at the third floor and saw that the coast was clear, I piroutted and slam dunked that skirt into the trash next to the stairs.  Free at last! 

Good-bye to a great bunch of kids.

Good riddance to the dress code!

I escaped out the front door with just a few sentimental good-byes to fellow staff.  I revved up my motor bike and cruised off into the dark night - only to stall in the middle of the first major roundabout.  It seemed only fitting to end my Danang adventure this way.  Once I got myself out of traffic and onto the sidewalk, a friendly 12-year-old came over and worked on the bike for thirty minutes.  Miraculously the bike eventually sprang to life for my final cruise back to Hoi An.  I can now officially say that I survived (and even enjoyed) the motorbike commute without an accident or even a Veitnamese tattoo (exhaust pipe burn) to show for the experience.  We can all breathe a sigh of relief and brace ourselves for the day I get behind a wheel of a car again - oblivious to the fact that there are rules to be followed.  Reverse culture shock here we come!

Good-bye Trans.  Good-bye teens.  Good-bye tacky clothes!